


The Meaning of Victory

by bossladyharley



Category: Transformers: Prime, Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Cybertron, Gen, Shattered Glass, War Era, with some influences from Transformers: Exodus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 07:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6972268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bossladyharley/pseuds/bossladyharley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Battle of Iacon was a dark hour in the War for Cybertron, but it was the individual players that perhaps suffered the most. The SG story of how Bumblebee lost his voice box.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Meaning of Victory

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to explore how this could go over in the Shattered Glass universe, because how can it be explained? How can it be justified? And how could a bot as honestly pure as Bumblebee so willingly serve a dark and misguided Optimus Prime?

Megatron understood even before the war began that he would have to make tough decisions. He believed as long as he was the one in control of those decisions, he could live with them. And as the leader of the rebellion, of the Decepticons, one thing Megatron coveted above all else was control. Control over himself, control over his fate, control over events he himself wrought. So in the one instance where he lost control, where he made a decision of passion and not of logic, Megatron looked back on with deepest regret. But still he lived with it.

It involved the Battle for Iacon and the Autobot's young and enthusiastic new Scout.

Iacon was a center of great interest for both sides. Many would say, Optimus and Megatron included, that it was the most important site of the war, not just because it was the Autobot stronghold but also because it was the focal point of all information and history for Cybertron. And no longer were the clerks and Cybertronians who dwelled there completely impartial, dedicated to unbiased categorizing and note-taking. Optimus held considerable sway over them, and as a direct result, the Prime held sway over how events were recorded and reported throughout Cybertron. Megatron understood that as long as Iacon remained in Autobot hands, so too would history. The struggle for the city, therefore, was as long and desperate as one would expect.

But what was entirely unexpected was what such a battle would cost for both sides.

* * *

Optimus Prime faced a battalion of new recruits, not quite so fresh from the Well of AllSparks but certainly fresh to the realities of war. But no longer. In a mad scramble, Megatron was declaring war on Iacon, and Optimus was not blind to the fact that, even with the new generation of Transformers on his side, his forces were outnumbered. 

But neither was he blind to reality. Iacon was a fortress, and his Autobots would die to defend it. They would die for victory. And victory was exactly what would happen. Optimus could see it.

It rested in the bright light of each optic of the soldiers before him, but none more so than a black and yellow Scout on the far end of the unit.

Other than victory, there was a certain degree of hero worship there, gleaming teasingly at Optimus. Such things were dangerous, being as impassioned as they were, but Optimus refused to stamp it out. Not so long as it remained useful.

A small, fatherly smile appeared, offsetting the coldness in Optimus' optics. It was enough to set the new recruits at ease, for they hadn't yet grasped that Primes and genuine emotions simply did not coexist.

Absolutely none of the Bots here knew how much of a mockery Optimus' current smile was, having no prior knowledge or memories of his former life as Orion Pax and how bright, though few, his smiles had been. It was a life that was slowly and deliberately being erased from history.

If Optimus had his way, only Megatron and his underlings would remember that past, and by then, their claims would ring hollow and false.

"You each have been debriefed on the situation. Iacon remains the last Autobot stronghold on Cybertron. Ensure that it remains this way, or die trying. The fate of our planet, our cause, and our very existence depends on it."

He stopped and focused his full attention on the Scout among them.

"Bumblebee, step forward."

The Scout was clearly surprised, but he followed orders, standing at attention with a proud straightness in his back. 

Optimus came to stand before him.

"You showed considerable courage and ingenuity during our last skirmish with the Decepticons. You are also one of the few in your unit to experience the brutalities of battle before. Lead these Bots, and lead them well, and you will see yourself rewarded."

Bumblebee's surprise deepened, appearing almost comical. Optimus hid a sneer. One way or another, this war would see to it that these open displays of emotion would be corrected. 

"Are—are you serious?" Bumblebee gasped. "But, sir, I'm still just a Scout. How could I lead?"

"I'm unused to having my judgment challenged, Bumblebee," Optimus said, smile still in place but with a sternness in his voice. "But by all means, if you feel unfit to lead, I will choose another..."

"No!" Bumblebee exclaimed then quickly withdrew. "No, I—I would be honored to do so. Thank you, my Prime. I’ll make you proud."

“I’m sure you will.”

Optimus smiled again before moving down the line to another battalion.

And so it went.

* * *

The Battle for Iacon quickly spread to other cities throughout Cybertron, Tyger Pax being among them. Part of the reason was because the Autobots had developed sophisticated guerrilla warfare tactics and knew how to keep their enemies spread. Another reason was because the Decepticons had more than enough soldiers to spare and could afford to attack multiple sites at once. Of course, both sides believed they had the upper hand over the other because of these tactics.

But as the vie for Iacon stretched on for cycles, it became clear to both sides’ respective leadership that a change of tactics was in order. Or perhaps, a change of focus.

Claiming once and for all the Well of AllSparks seemed as good a place as any to start.

It was no secret that the vast majority of the new generation of Transformers had sided with the Autobots. But the site being so close to the Autobot stronghold made Megatron wonder: how much choice had those newbuilds really had? How much influence had the Autobots exerted over them before they made that choice? What indoctrination tactics had the Autobots employed to ensure the results they wanted?

Megatron fervently believed that, had the Well of AllSparks been in Decepticon territory, the question of choice wouldn’t even _be_ a question at all. He would personally ensure that every newbuild had control over his or her own fate. That was the entire point, after all. And should the AllSpark see fit to create a new generation again while the war was ongoing, then the Decepticons would fight bucket and bolt to ensure that generation’s autonomy.

Little did Megatron know, Optimus had other contingency plans in the works to prevent such a thing from happening.

* * *

Night had fallen over the city, but still the sky was bright with rocket fire and explosions, adding a constant though dim light over the scene. Seekers blazed back and forth over the skyline, concentrating their fire on pockets of Autobots and resource lines. On the ground, Cons and Bots grappled with each other whenever they got close enough, though laser fire still zapped chaotically through the air all around.

Megatron’s Energon was pumping, coming alive in the way it only did when he used nothing more than his own strength against his opponent. Strewn around him were Bots who had already tested their mettle against him and come up deadly short. Currently locked in combat with him was a snarling Autobot who’s name Megatron did not catch.

As Megatron delivered a swift, killing blow, he realized he no longer cared to know, not when the Autobot had failed to deliver so much as a scratch on him.

Raising both fists in the air, Megatron screamed out to the Cybertronians around him, both Con and Bot. “I STILL FUNCTION!”

Both victory and war cry, it caught on quickly like an all-consuming fire as Decepticons all around the battle lines picked up the chant as they, in turn, felled their opponents.

And indeed, the battle seemed all but won for the Decepticons, even as Bumblebee and the other reinforcement units arrived on the scene.

All they really were, however, was a distraction as one by one they fell.

Bumblebee ordered his troops to take evasive action as a Seeker squadron sent a series of missiles their way. His warning was given too late as a missile found its mark and devastated his unit in a sensory-overloading blast. Bumblebee himself barely escaped thanks to his swift change into his alt-mode, wheeling past the debris and fire hurtling all around him. His comrades weren’t so lucky as some were blown to pieces and others were forced to scatter, leaving him on his own. 

Normally, they would be able to regroup, but the fight across Tyger Pax was no ordinary battle. Everywhere Bumblebee turned, a Decepticon was there, waiting for them.

He dispatched the ones that came across his path, reverting to his protoform to deal a killing blow and then changing back to his alt-mode to make a speedy escape. All the while, he kept an optic on the skies for the Seekers to return. He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t recall seeing Starscream among the squadron that bombed his unit. Which didn’t seem to make much of a difference. Starscream’s Seekers were just as lethal and precise without him.

Spinning to a stop, transforming back into his protoform all the while, Bumblebee leveled an arm canon at a returning formation of Seekers, intending to bring at least one of them down. He had his current mission to complete, of course. But he had his own motivations to accomplish, one of which involved proving to Optimus that he had chosen wisely for Bumblebee to join his inner circle. That he had more worth than being a simple Scout.

Bumblebee should have been paying attention to the ground surrounding him instead of the skies and his own personal drama.

The Scout took a hard blow to the shoulder with a laser and was knocked on his back, his own shot skirting wildly through the air, hitting nothing. He staggered to his feet, looking for the dead Con who’d hit him, only to realize it had been _the_ Con.

Megatron.

And the ex-gladiator was currently charging right for him.

Before Bumblebee could bring up his arms to block, Megatron had struck him in the face, and Bumblebee was down again.

But Megatron did not come after him. Another opponent had stepped into his path, giving Bumblebee time to view the skies again. Not for Seekers this time. For something far more substantial.

It was just in time for Bumblebee to see that… Yes. There it was. The AllSpark.

They had succeeded.

Bumblebee’s vision blacked out momentarily as he collapsed face-forward in the dirt.

Megatron delivered a swift end to this newest Autobot annoyance just as he noticed a peculiar blue streak in the sky.

He knew better than to assume it to be one of Starscream’s Seekers.

After checking his surroundings to ensure all enemies were dealt with, including the black and yellow Bot he had beaten back earlier, Megatron focused his attention on the anomaly with trained optics. A klik passed. Then another. 

As a rocket exploded near the anomaly, illuminating it, Megatron’s spark gave an alarmed start before sinking into his stomach. It couldn’t be. Orion Pax had become many things since becoming a Prime, but surely he wouldn’t be so crazed as to…

But there was no other way to explain the sight of the Autobot-controlled AllSpark hurtling itself into space.

“Well, how ‘bout that.”

Megatron redirected his horrified gaze down to the black and yellow Bot, who was not as incapacitated as he’d first supposed.

For indeed, though Energon leaked in a trail of blue out of the Scout’s mouth, he was very much alive and looking supremely satisfied. Was he a fool? Didn’t he realize what Optimus Prime had just done? What his actions meant for them all?

Bumblebee coughed once, fighting to speak again.

“Looks like…” he rasped out, “you just lost." 

Bumblebee managed to rise to one knee. All the while, Megatron stared him down, hands clenched into iron fists in what he alone knew to be an admirable show of restraint.

“Not much good… seizing Iacon,” said the Scout, finding sure footing again. “Without the Well of AllSparks… available to you, too, huh?”

“If you are a smart mech,” Megatron growled, “you’ll know that right now is the time you should stop speaking.”

Instead, Bumblebee laughed, a halting yet mocking sound.

“Must have been something to see the AllSpark shoot into space like that, forever out of your reach.” Bumblebee met Megatron’s optics, a mad kind of glee dancing within his blue ones. “Poor Decepticons. How helpless, how tragic you must feel. I’m so glad I was the one my Prime chose to be here, so I could see this. I’ll have your face right now burned into my processor forever.”

Megatron released an infuriated yell and took a rushing step forward. Before anyone knew what had happened, Megatron’s hand was wrapped— _squeezing_ —around Bumblebee’s throat, and with seemingly no effort at all, Megatron lifted him to optic-level, the Scout’s legs weakly kicking the air as he attempted to struggle.

All the while, Megatron was shouting, his red optics burning brighter than fire as if the very Pit stirred within them. “You think this is a joke? You think this is a _victory?_ You have _no idea_ of what you speak! You have _no idea_ of what Prime has just done! Done to all of us! He’s _killed_ us! He’s _murdered us all!_ ”

Megatron could already see it, the future. The AllSpark was the source of all new life on Cybertron. Without it, there would never be another generation birthed on the planet. They had lost so many Cybertronians already on both sides, and this war showed no signs of stopping, despite how long it had already lasted. And Energon was growing scarcer by the day, rations becoming more and more thin. At this rate, they would all starve. At this rate, no one would be left to find the AllSpark and restore it to the planet again, and if that happened, Cybertron _would_ die and all of them with it.

Megatron’s hand clenched tighter, a fierce determination building itself with renewed hunger inside him. He started this war, he knew. But he would _not_ allow that future to pass.

It wasn’t until the sound and feel of sparks crackling that Megatron returned to the present. To the image of a Bot dangling by the throat in his grasp, a throat that Megatron in his rage had just crushed, vocoder and all. It was this that was releasing sparks even as the Bot desperately clawed at Megatron’s arm fruitlessly.

Megatron dropped him, and the Bot fell to the ground heavily in a shriek of metal, unwilling or unable to catch himself. The Decepticon leader was unsure if he had just killed him, or if he would die slowly without immediate medical treatment. Megatron decided that he couldn’t afford to care. Not when the AllSpark was now lost to them. Not when he had to return to Kaon and Trypticon Station for immediate debriefing and planning with his officers.

Before he left, Megatron regarded the fallen Scout one last time. Though Bumblebee’s optics were dimming, the static that came through his vocoder implied that he still had plenty to say. Or maybe he hadn’t yet come to terms with the horror of his new condition. It seemed that Megatron had not killed the messenger after all.

That was perhaps the will of Primus, for Megatron found that he suddenly had his own message to compose. It would be up to Primus once more to ensure its deliverance.

“You should return to your leader.” Megatron turned and began walking away, signaling for his forces to retreat. For now. “Let him know exactly what his so-called victory has wrought.”

* * *

Ratchet looked down at the unconscious Scout dispassionately, optics darting over the broken and exposed wires peeking through his throat. Wordlessly, he surveyed the tools and parts he had at his disposal.

It wasn’t enough. Ratchet knew just from that one initial analysis that repairing the Scout's voice box was a futile endeavor. Their resources were simply too few, and as Optimus Prime’s senior medic officer, he did not have the time or the will to devote to finding an ingenious solution.

But that did not mean that the experiment was over. Rather, Ratchet thought as he picked up a scalpel, it had only just begun.

"Come now, old friend,” a neutral voice interrupted him just as he hung the blade over Bumblebee’s exposed throat. “Don't you think this poor Scout has suffered enough today?”

Ratchet surveyed Optimus as he entered the med bay, his presence alone effortlessly taking up the entire room. The medic lowered his optics to Bumblebee again, a clinical stare once more in place.

“Perhaps you’re right.” Ratchet stepped away from the berth to carefully store his ever-reliable equipment away. “But will a Scout without a voice really prove to be of much use?” 

“He doesn’t need his vocoder to communicate. Without it, he is still perfectly functional.” Optimus stood over Bumblebee, considering him just as he had when he had chosen him to lead his unit. “I prefer him this way. He will certainly never question me again.”

“Everything happened exactly as you predicted,” Ratchet said, bringing his attention once more to Bumblebee. “Minus a few minor variables.”

They regarded Bumblebee the way a surveyor would measure the damage left behind by a catastrophic storm, detached from the real-life tragedies that occurred because of it.

“Yes, but even this,” Optimus said, waving a hand towards the Scout, “acted considerably in our favor. In a masterful stroke of fortune, we revealed a bit of the tyrant I always knew lurked behind Megatron’s revolutionary façade, just waiting for a chance to come out and play. And play, he did.”

“I suppose that’s all well and good, sir,” Ratchet replied with growing frustration. “But that doesn’t change the fact that, even with the successful ejection of the AllSpark, the Decepticons still have the resources, the territory, and the worthwhile subjects that we need. And how am I to test the reliance of alternate fuel sources if there’s no one around to study?”

“You will have other guinea pigs at your disposal, Ratchet. That I promise you. In fact, Arcee should be bringing some to you now. This battle yielded promising results for us that I believe will be paying off for quite some time.”

Optimus left Ratchet alone with those parting words to consider. And Ratchet did consider them, leaving the Scout untouched after welding his wound shut, as Optimus ordered.

And as promised, Arcee soon appeared at the door, flanked with three guard Bots, each holding a captured Decepticon soldier between them, still aware, still breathing, still whole. 

Ratchet’s optics gleamed. 

And all through the remainder of the night, Bumblebee slept on, never knowing all the horrors that had occurred around him, though even if he had, he would have been unable to speak of them in the same way he had before.


End file.
